He Fell in Love with a Slytherin
by autumnskyhill
Summary: Enemies by association, a relationship between Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson didn't seem very likely.But that's until it's announced that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are engaged to be married as soon as school ends. Now, anything seems possible.
1. Chapter Uno

**Disclaimer**: This is getting to be a real drag. We all know that all Harry Potter-related verbs (just do it!) belong to J.K. Rowling, who is brilliant and deserves to be worshipped and given lots of delicious fried chicken as homage. review and you shall get some too

**Author's Note**: Based on previous stories, it would seem that I have difficulty updating multi-chaptered stories. But this time I'm going to try and keep updating at a regular pace. I'm thinking that this will be updated… once a month? Maybe more depending on how much plot I can come up with. And actually, I'm pretty proud of myself. This is my VERY FIRST non-D/Hr story. Yippee for me!

p.s. The chapters are pretty short. Sorry about that…

He fell In Love With a Slytherin 

Pansy Parkinson was almost seventeen.

For most girls, it meant close to nothing, but for the only child of Irvin and Katrene Parkinson, it meant that it was time to get married. Unfortunately, she would not be allowed to pick a suitor. Instead, she would have to resort to fretting nervously while her parents chose a suitable man for her to wed.

For the children of wealthy, pureblooded families like the Parkinsons, love had nothing to do with marriage. It was all about making themselves look good, gaining ground on the unstable pieces of wood that made up the social ladder. Although they were already quite rich, the Parkinsons lacked respect. It was said that Irvin Parkinson made his money through lies and threats. But Mr. Parkinson brushed this off, saying, "That's what the Malfoys do."

Pansy knew that it was her duty, to her family and to the family name, to carry out her parents' carefully executed plans for their daughter. She knew that she was to do this without question, without so much as a "why". From a young age, she was taught discipline, etiquette, how to court a gentleman, and of course, the art of Occlumency. These days, you can never be too careful, her mother would always say.

But Pansy also knew that she would not like the man her parents selected for her. _Selected_. What a way to refer to living beings. It was as if this was just picking fruit from the orchards down the lane. Well, if it were so, Pansy knew that she would skip right along the apples and pick from the forbidden orange tree. Because the man she loved was way out of her league when it came to class and money.

Knowing her luck, Pansy would probably end up with some sniveling imbecile, like Vincent Crabbe, for instance. The boy may have been dense, but his family made up for it in riches. Or perhaps her mother would choose Draco Malfoy. Pansy actually quite liked him…three years ago. Now, he was happy with his fiancé (they were getting married as soon as school ended), Mud—Muggle-born Granger. Pansy still couldn't believe that Lucius had agreed to the idea of his only son dating a Muggle-born, but people _do_ change.

Speaking of Muggle-borns, Pansy's one true love was only a little bit better. He was a half-blood. However, Pansy felt that he more than made up for it with his personality, his looks, and she could only pray that her parents agreed that his fame would mean another step up the ladder. He was known by all in the Wizarding World, and he was commonly referred to as the 'Boy-who-lived'. Ring a bell?

Yes, Pansy Parkinson was hopelessly, wonderfully, desperately in love with Harry Potter.

It happened only a year ago. It was surprising how much could change in the capacity of just three-hundred sixty-five days. But a lot _had _changed. Formerly enemies by association, a relationship between Pansy and Harry seemed near impossible. That was until the news spread that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were engaged, and neither of them were under any sort of spell. By the third month of their engagement, anything seemed possible. Even another relationship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Shortest chapter yet…

Chapter Two

While Pansy paced her room, which was about a half-acre of space, Harry paced his much smaller room, also contemplating his fate.

Although he was not required to get married any time soon, he had his own problems to deal with. Two years ago, he had lost the only parent he had left—Sirius Black, his godfather. After Sirius' death, Harry hid himself away from the world, shutting and bolting the door behind him. He was like a living corpse. He scarcely ate, slept little, and never talked. He had even given up Quidditch. It was as if Sirius had taken Harry with him when he left the living world.

Hermione and Ron had tried to get through to him, using various methods, including coaxing, bribery, screaming at him, and many more, until they finally gave up, only paying him mind when they forced him to eat.

That year had been the hardest of all on Harry's emotional state. Inside, he was breaking apart, and his heart felt like it was torn in two and then the pieces were violently thrown around, then returned to him. He had cared for Sirius greatly. He had been a father to Harry. A real father. He stepped in and helped him when he needed help, assisted him in handling the Dursleys, and risked his life many times, just to see his godson.

But it all changed when Pansy Parkinson came upon him in the Astrology Tower. Unlike the majority of the student population, Harry was not there to steal a private moment alone with his girlfriend. Instead, he had been there, wondering if he should just jump and be done with it. Logically, it wouldn't have worked anyway, because Hogwarts' walls and towers were apparently anti-suicide. On the contrary, Harry was far from thinking logically. His mind had been fogged with depression and loss. And the decision that he made that night was to jump. At that time, he couldn't think of any reason to keep living. But just as he was about to step up onto the ledge, he heard a voice calling him.

It said just one word, "Stop."

It was a simple enough word, yet, it was able to free Harry from his stupor. It wiped away the fog that clouded his mind and for the first time in months, Harry could think clearly. It was that night, that chilly May evening, that Harry fell in love with a Slytherin. He fell in love with pug-faced Pansy, who wasn't so pug-faced anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I'd like to thank… my reviewers! Kudos to OnEbLoOdYrOsEpEtAl373, LiteraryJunkie, and marielebeau. Thanks muchly! hands them tacos and delicious fried chicken Keep reviewing! mwah

By the middle of December, Hogwarts was bustling with holiday cheer and anticipation of the upcoming break. They had worked hard for over three months and were eager to get some time off. But not everyone was leaving the school.

This group included Harry, who for obvious reasons simply did not want to go 'home' and would not have been welcomed anyway, Hermione, who's parents were away on vacation in France, visiting her aunt, Draco, who claimed that his parents needed time to bond (but he was really staying so he and Hermione could have some privacy), Ron, who wanted to stay so he could play chaperone to Hermione and Draco, Ginny, who was staying so she could make sure Ron didn't ruin everything, Neville, who was trying to court Ginny (to no avail), and Pansy, who wanted to avoid her destiny for as long as possible.

This year it was decided that, seeing as there was only a small group remaining at Hogwarts, and it was always wise to use the buddy system, the ones staying would be placed in one dorm room. This dorm room was located in one of the retired teacher's wings, and had more than enough space for seven people. There would be two to a room, and as Professor McGonagall put it, there was to be no "procreating" to be going on. Of course, Draco and Hermione had other ideas in mind. And let's just say that not all of them were suitable for children.

A week later, the castle was empty save for half the faculty and the seven who were staying.

Hogwarts seemed even bigger when it's halls were empty. Most of the group had decided to sleep in, seeing as they had stayed up much later than usual the night before and having the chance to sleep as long as one wanted was a rare occurrence during school days. The ones who were early birds could be found in the Great Hall, reading the Daily Prophet, talking, or just thinking.

Pansy was just thinking. She was thinking about Harry, which wasn't so strange anymore. Actually, it had become a state of mind for her. And now that she did not have schoolwork to worry about, she could think about him all day. So that's exactly what she did.

She thought about his intense, beautiful green eyes. They reminded her of her mother's jewelry. Katrene Parkinson's favourite stone was the emerald. She said it was because the emeralds had a mystery about them. Pansy thought that Harry's eyes had a mystery about them as well. If she were ever given the chance, she would just sit there, admiring those beautiful orbs.

She thought about his jet-black hair...well, it wasn't so dark anymore. Over the years, his hair had turned a lighter shade, the result of hours of exposure to the sun during Quidditch practice. Speaking of Quidditch, all that working out was definitely worth it. His body was fantastic—especially in his Quidditch robes. Why, Pansy had to hold a handkerchief over her mouth to keep from drooling! And she noticed that Harry had quite big feet. You know what they say about guys with big feet…big socks. But also big _other things._

Pansy smiled dreamily at the thought as she settled into another one of her daydreams.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Another short chapter! But I'm updating! Anyway, thnx again to all the people who have read, and extra thnx and lots of good delicious high-quality fried chicken to the ones who read and reviewed! mwah

Harry looked around him.

He had called this place 'home' for the last six years, and it was hard to believe that this was going to be his final year. In fact, it seemed that this year was just whizzing by. It was already Christmas break!

Hermione, Ron, and himself had agreed beforehand to remain at Hogwarts for one last time. It just so happened that four others, including Pansy, and can you believe it, Hermione's _fiancé_ Draco Malfoy, were staying as well.

Actually, when Hermione ran over to him that day to tell him, he had to admit he hadn't been that surprised. He had always had a feeling that those two would wind up together, somehow, someday. He even recalled confiding in Ron about this just three months before Hermione and Malfoy got engaged. Ron had reacted quite well, and even agreed, after three hours of "calm" contemplation.

So that's why there wasn't a big dramatic thing after everyone knew. Because no one was really that surprised.

Speaking of love, Harry's own heart was having trouble. He knew that he was developing a bit of a crush on Pansy, but what was this new feeling? It was different from a crush. And he knew, from past experiences, what a crush felt like. It seemed… warmer. Stronger. And for some reason, he just couldn't get Pansy Parkinson off his mind.

He knew it was too cliché to say, but… could this be love?

As Christmas day drew nearer, the castle seemed to come to life again, despite the small number of people who occupied it. The small group of students helped decorate the halls, making it sparkle. They even did it the Muggle way!

There was also a lot of secrecy, hiding presents under robes, purposely avoiding people, all that crazy stuff that people do during the holidays. And everyone was definitely overcome by the holiday craze. It seemed to spark a lot of excitement and everyone was easy-going and happy, even Draco, who would normally be sulking somewhere. But then again, he was engaged now, and him and Hermione were certain to be doing things in bed, and it wouldn't just be sleeping.

As for Ron, well, he was left to spend time some quality with his little sister and Neville. The three often spent time just hanging out, playing Wizard's Chess and eating candy (Neville's chocolate frogs were always hopping off). Occasionally, Pansy and Harry would join them, but seeing Hermione and Draco out of the bedroom, especially during the hours before and after dinner, was turning into a rare occurrence.

In just two days it would be Christmas, which meant that everyone was finishing up last minute preparations for the big day. And along with that, there was the planning of the Christmas Eve party. Harry and friends had decided that they should hold a small get together to celebrate the occasion. And of course, there would be booze—it was Draco's job to bring it. With drinking games like the ones they were planning on playing, it was sure to prove one _very_ interesting party.

Oh, and it wasn't guaranteed that there wouldn't be any private after parties…


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **You know the drill. J.K. owns all HP nouns. The rest of us are just here to twist them around until their minds work the way we want them to and they say the things we want them to, and get together with the people we want them to (Dramione all the way!) and...you get the point.**  
**

**Author's Notes**: This is the longest chapter yet! However, I sort of rushed through it, so I'm not sure if it's the _best_ chapter. But you'll all love it anyway, right? I'll give you chiiiicken! Review review review!

.Chapter Five.

Harry Potter had been locked in his very own room.

With a Slytherin. And not just _any_ Slytherin. Oh no, he was currently forcibly stuck with Pansy Parkinson. Who also happened to be the object of his affection, and the subject of his recent sexual fantasies.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would not be in this situation. Harry should have remembered that Weasleys threw the wildest parties. Add alcohol in and you've got yourself one insane party.

It was well-known that Fred and George had been at the top of Hogwarts' A-list when it came to partiesand pranks, of course. However, Harry did not know that their younger siblings, Ron and Ginny Weasley, had inherited the reputation and were doing quite a job of keeping it.

The party, being small, but somehow still wild, was egged on by the unhealthy amounts of alcohol that everyone had consumed. Apparently, Draco Malfoy was a great source of both cheap and expensive liquor. The magically conjured table that had been strategically placed where everyone could see it was piled high with Firewhiskey, Muggle Vodka,

butterbeer for the light drinkers, and a various selection of foreign wines.

Harry's guess was that Draco and Hermione had left early to "take care of some business", Ron was attempting to conjure artificial Veelas, and Pansy was sticking to drinking butterbeers when an extremely drunk Ginny came along and grabbed him and Pansy, then proceeded to lock them in Harry's room.

So now they sat in opposite corners of the room, both sighing to themselves. Just as Harry was starting to nod off, Pansy cleared her throat loudly. "How long has it been, Potter?"she asked, pointing to her wrist.

Harry shrugged. "Two hours?"

Pansy groaned. "I'm going to kill that little bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," Harry replied.

"Tough," Pansy retorted.

And then the silence came back.

A half hour later, it was Harry's turn to clear his throat. "Do you have any food?"

Pansy snorted. "Isn't being a pig Weasley's job?"

"Hey! It's not his fault he's got an extra fast metabolism that causes him to be constantly hungry," Harry shot back, defending his long time best friend.

Pansy sniffed. "No need to get all defensive," she muttered.

"I'm not being defensive," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes you are," she said.

"NO I'M NOT!" he practically screamed.

"Whatever you say. Merlin, who knew you were such an easy target," she said, just to see how angry she could get him.

But obviously Harry was the type of guy who was always determined to prove you wrong, because he just shut up and scowled at her. So Pansy scowled back.

Rule number 51 of the Slytherin Code of Conduct: Never let a member of an opposing house, especially a Gryffindor, scowl at you without retaliation.

Their scowling match did not last long, because just then, there was a loud crash. The two hostages immediately scrambled to their feet. "Merlin's balls! What the hell was that?" Pansy asked, alarmed.

Harry, who was more curious than anything, shook his head. "I don't know, but let's try and get out of here first." Pansy just nodded.

She supervised Harry while he proceeded to slam into the door, attempting to knock it down. On the fifth try, Pansy gave up on him and gestured for him to step aside. But there was one thing she had to ask before she ruined her favorite dress robes. "Do you have your wand?"

Harry glared at her. "If I did, do you think we'd still be here?"

Pansy shrugged. "Only asking," she said. Then she charged at the door. And miraculously, it worked. The door instantly clanked to the ground with a dull thud.

The smug smile on Pansy's face was a sight to see. "All in a day's work," she said, brushing off her robes.

On their way out, Harry simply stared at her in wonder. Pansy smirked in response.

"Looks like you need to workout more Potter."

Harry just glared at her. Pansy was unfazed and continued to make her way through the corridors, searching for the source of the disruptive crashing sound. On their way, they passed Ron singing Christmas carols, Ginny slumped over on a chair mumbling to herself, and Draco and Hermione's bedroom door, which seemed to be suffering from some rough rushed-against-the-nearest-flat-surface sex.

"Hmph," Pansy grumbled. "Soiled my robes for no reason. Imbeciles..."

Harry, however, didn't hear her. He was busy searching the floor for movement with great concentration.

"Potter, what the fuck are you doing? There's _nothing_ on the damn floor!"

Again, Harry ignored her, continuing his careful examination. A few moments later, he had apparently found what he was searching for and proceeded to mutter to himself under his breath.

Pansy raised a magically tweezed-to-perfection brow. "I always knew you were a bit off your rocker, but I never thought you were suffering from schizophrenia, as well."

If she wanted Harry to rise to the challenge and fire back, she was disappointed. He completely ignored her. So Pansy just sighed, and leaned against the wall. Just when she was dozing off, Harry let out an excited gasp. Then he exclaimed, "I knew it!"

Pansy stood up straight and yawned. "Knew what?"

Harry got up from his crouch and turned to face Pansy. His emerald eyes sparkled with excitement, and his mouth quirked up on the corners. "There's a secret passage under the floorboards!" he explained, pointing to the spot he had been analyzing.

Pansy was unimpressed. "So what? This is Hogwarts. Secret passages are nothing new."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But this one leads to a brothel!"

It was Pansy's turn to roll her eyes. Boys, she thought. Trust them to get excited at the prospect of whoreswho undoubtedly had at least ONE sexual transmitted disease from their so-called 'careers'performing sexual favors that any sensible girl would have turned down without a second thought. "And how do _you_ know this?"

"It was the only interesting fact that Hermione ever shared with us when she ranted about Hogwarts: A History."

Oh. So it was Granger who had found the need to tell seventeen and eighteen-year-old boys about the hidden brothel under their school.

Just peachy.

Pansy wondered just how many people she would have to accidentally do away with after this hellhole of a night was over.

At this rate, she would be able to publish a book on all the reasons why certain people needed to suffer.

And in her book, she would make sure there was no mention of any brothels, hidden or no.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: All Harry Potter and co. are owned by J.K. Rowling, and all those other big dogs that she is affiliated with.

After making their way through numerous tunnels, turning around various narrow corners (Harry found these to be the most straining, especially on his pants), and fighting through what seemed like hundreds of cobwebs, they finally made it to Lace.

'How appropriately named,' Pansy thought with a snort. She was certain that all of the employees wore nothing but the aforementioned material.

Now the two stood just inside the establishment, surrounded by ample-bosomed waitresses, rowdy customers, and the weary manager.

Pansy glanced to her right, where the Boy-Who-Lived-and-Was-About-To-Come-In-His-Pants stood practically drooling over the nearest waitress. She scowled in disgust and reached over to pinch Harry in the arm.

"Ouch!" he yelped, rubbing his injured forearm and glaring at Pansy. "What the Merlin was that for!"

Pansy sniffed. "Hmph. That was for showing disrespectable behavior in the presence of a lady."

Harry shot her a look of disbelief. "What la--" Seeing the menacing glare already in place on Pansy's face, and her hand poised to inflict more pain, he quickly changed tactics. "What disrespectable behavior?" he questioned, throwing his hands up. "I was just _looking_!"

Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose up in the air. "Oh please, Potty. You were about to soil yourself."

Harry almost choked with indignation. "Parkinson, you're intolerable."

"Oh, pah," Pansy replied, looking down her nose at him. "You are the intolerable one. You silly _males_, with your constant testosterone issues."

Harry only rolled his eyes. "Look, can I just have a quick look around? You should to. I see plenty of hot and sweaty cowboys around. Work your snakey charms, loosen up!"

With that, he sauntered off, most likely to go catch him some fatal genital diseases.

Pansy made sure to stamp her feet huffily as she made her way across the crowded bar, until she made it to the bartender.

"Hit me," she said, slamming her hand down to get his attention.

The bartender only chuckled.

"Sure little lady. Time and place!" he jested, still chuckling. As he laughed, the phlegm in his no doubt smoker's lungs churned, causing excess spray to fly all over the place, and it made Pansy want to shoot him in the larynx.

She awarded his lewdness with the meanest glare she could muster. "Are you going to get me my drink, or not?"

The bartender, who's name, according to the ratty tag stuck messily to his puke-green suspenders, was Josh, only laughed some more. "Ooh, we got ourselves a feisty one!"

Pansy could tell she had won though, for her drink was in front of her within two minutes.

"There ya' go," Josh said. "Hope ya' didn't come travelin' alone, these here parts are dangerous for a dame like you."

Pansy scowled at him. (All this face-making was going to take loads of face masks to repair.)

"I don't need your concern, thanks. I'm quite capable on my own. Besides, I've got myself a big strong man."

Josh laughed. "Oh sure, if that's what you like to call your teddy bear."

'Oh, a regular comedian, isn't he,' Pansy thought with a grimace.If she had her wand, she would have hexed this sucker to oblivion by now.

'Fucking Potter,' Pansy thought. 'Where the hell are you?'

Well, she supposed since she was here, she might as well enjoy herself.

Still nursing her lovely, lovely alcoholic beverage, Pansy pointed a finger in Josh's direction. "Listen, buddy, I'm going to get pissed as a sailor. If you take advantage of me _at all_, if you so much as lay a grimy dirty_ quarter_ of a finger on me, I'll have your ass shipped off of this world, no refunds, one-way trip. Savvy?"

Josh held up his hands in surrender. He wasn't laughing anymore.

Satisfied, Pansy downed the remaining contents of her glass. "Refill!"

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** whew. That was a long wait, and for a relatively short chapter.

-hides- There's just been too much going on, with school and all, but now that summer's here… -biggrin-


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: Oh, pah, you know the drill! Harry Potter J.K. Rowling's.

When Harry found Pansy an hour later, she was drunk as a skunk, high as a kite….and half-naked.

While he himself was quite freaking drunk, and quite liked the view of Pansy's nearly exposed breasts, he was sober enough to know that they had to return to Hogwarts before anything truly troubling happened.

And so, with a sigh, he quickly pushed through the fast-gathering crowd of horny men, finally reaching Pansy, who was enthusiastically dancing her pants off, literally.

"All right blokes," he yelled, his words slurring, "time for PanPan to go home! She'll be back next Tuesday!"

He unsteadily climbed onto the table Pansy was dancing on and unsuccessfully tried to pick her up. The duo tumbled over the table's edge and onto the floor, in a tangle of limbs, empty beer bottles, and Harry's not-so-little problem.

'Half-naked Pansy--', Harry thought, '--on top of me.'

Harry was pulled back to the present when Pansy proceeded to use his chest as her own personal gripping surface, and then tried to pull herself up.

Unfortunately, she slipped, and her hand fell across a particularly stiff part of his anatomy, and he groaned at the contact.

Fortunately for Harry, Pansy was too drunk to notice that she was groping him, and only relocated her hand (this made Harry sigh with relief) to a more suitable surface. Finally, her shaky hand found the floor and she managed to pick herself up, only to fall against the table.

Now, considerably more sober due to the alarmingly close call, Harry followed her lead and then steadied her, pulling her arm around his neck and placing a hand on her hip to keep her from falling.

It was in this position that they walked to the door, through the tunnels, and back through the trap door to Harry's room, which was, surprise, surprise, still locked.

With a grimace, Harry picked Pansy up and tried his best to lay her down on the bed, positioning her on her stomach. He didn't need to be accused of murder, whether it be the first, second, or third degree.

Being drunk, it was harder to repress his emotions, and Harry knew that there was more than just that. He cared about her, he really did, and it scared him to death. She was a Slytherin!

With a resigned groan, he flopped down on to the floor.

Drunk, he may be, but even drunk, Harry Potter was a gentleman.

Pansy's eyelids felt like they had been stupefied. They would not move, and to be honest, she was quite all right with that.

She had a pounding headache (it felt as if obese trolls were tossing rocks at the walls of her noggin), and everything hurt.

To top it all off, she remembered nothing from last night, except that…

"SHIT!" she exclaimed, jumping up. That was a bad idea, because it made her headache feel ten times worse.

Rubbing her head, she looked around her and realized she wasn't in her room. In fact, she wasn't even in the Slytherin dorms!

She groaned. Everything came rushing back and the memories of what happened the night before was certainly not helping her headache. She remembered that bloodtraitor Weasley girl had locked her and Harry in his room (looking around, she noticed that while not too horrid for a guy, his quarter of the room was in shambles), and then they went on to escape, only to go searching for some brothel, where she remembered yelling at some bartender, and then going on to get drunk off her ass, which resulted in table-dancing, and she believed there was stripping involved, on her part.

The one thing that really befuddled her was, how in the world did she manage to get back here?

Pansy looked around her. Her eyes fell across the sleeping form of Harry Potter, who was snoring loudly. She just had to laugh, although that didn't do much for her aching skull.

She concluded that he must've been quite pissed himself, for his glasses, which he had forgotten to take off, were slanted and threatened to fall off his face the next time he exhaled, his hair was a mess, his clothes were in a disarray, and he had only one shoe on.

While not his best state, the sight was quite endearing to Pansy, and she found herself gazing at him fondly. She hadn't even realized what she was doing until she found herself looking straight into his emerald eyes.

"Pansy? What are you…" Harry trailed off as he recalled the events of the night before.

His reaction was identical to Pansy's, only as he shot up, his head hit the not-so-cleverly placed bedside table, and he hissed in pain. Pansy grimaced, before quickly rushing over to assist him.

"Harry..." She said softly, so as not to frighten him. Harry opened his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, to glance at her.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" She quizzed, holding up three fingers.

"Twenty-six," Harry replied, looking dazed.

Pansy frowned. 'Great, he has a concussion. _Now_ what am I supposed to do,' she thought.

With great effort, she picked Harry up and lifted him into a sitting position.

"I'm going to check your pupils for dilation, okay?"

Harry only nodded dumbly.

As she got closer and closer to him, she wished she had just called for Madam Pomfrey.

The close proximity of him was really getting to her senses. When she was close enough, (and she made sure that it was _just_ close enough, no more) to inspect his eyes clearly, he spoke again.

"You look pretty in the morning."

Then he lost conciousness.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**eheheheh I'm on a roll! Read and review please. –smiles sweetly-


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